


to the gods

by bruisedbutlovely



Series: bittersweet words // oneshots [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Chaos, Death, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP Spoilers (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade is the Blood God, There is another god, Unreliable Narrator, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisedbutlovely/pseuds/bruisedbutlovely
Summary: Did you really think Technoblade was the only god?After all, where there is war and blood, death is soon to follow.(or how the server figured out that wilbur soot was a god)
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Series: bittersweet words // oneshots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160981
Comments: 18
Kudos: 294





	to the gods

**Author's Note:**

> my friend threatened me so i had to write this :) 
> 
> for my cowboy emoji using friend <3
> 
> i write a lot about gods (blame that on religious trauma) and about wilbur soot (the character version of him is fun to write)
> 
> but i hope you enjoy! <3

They say that war is never alone.

They say that when war slowly crawls across the land, taking over the minds of every occupant, that there is always another god that follows close behind. They say that when battles seem to be at every corner with no sign of stopping, there’s another god watching over. They say that when blood splatters the land and when war is finally over, another god is waiting.

War will always come followed by another. 

Over time, the god of war’s name changed. It’s inevitable with history; events happen, time goes on and the world changes. So, the god’s name went to Ares, to Mars, to Odin, to where it eventually is now.

They call him the Blood God and for those who know him, Technoblade. 

  
  
  


w̴̡̧͍̜̙̱͖̒̀̈̿̿̐̋͛͠ͅe̴̬̣̥̋̃̋̃̿͆͘ ̵̡̜͉̋̀͗̚w̴͎͕̹̐̀̈̌͆̇͒̎̐̈́ę̸̥̥̹̩̼̻͓̟̬̪̮̑͛̌̎͝r̵̯͈̳̣̗̰̮͈̭̜̙͗̊̽̍͆͑͐͛͜͝͝ȩ̶̧̛̠̠̮͚̪̻̺̭̰̱̹̈́̈̃̔̔̑̑̈̇̄̓̓͐͜͝ ̶̭͎͓̮̲̗̆ţ̵̨͍͇̙̘̹͌̔̌̐̌͌̈́͊̓͛̽͘͝o̶̰̪̠̙̦̦̼̣̼̳͎̖͖̰̚r̶̢̢̡̻͔̫͖̳̥̦̦͖̍̈͌̃̍̂̿̂͊͂̚͘n̶̨̛͓̱̦̲̤͒̓̀̄ͅ ̸̧̨̧̧̬̥̩̪̹̦̝̙̈́͋a̸̛̲͂p̵̣͔͎̤͚͍͚̪̩̓̓̆̀̐́ä̶̡̺̯̗͇̺̹̫͕̹͉͉͔͍̔̑͐͌̈́̈́r̶͉͉̟̻͓̣̪̙̥͝ṱ̷̛̤̲͚͇̈̽̑̄̃̈́̉͋͑̽̿͘͠ͅ.̵̛̬̀̽̓͐̋̑̎́̀͂͝͝

  
  
  


They called him Technoblade. They didn’t know his real name. 

But he’s used to playing roles that aren’t his own: the king, the warrior, the farmer, the emperor, the anarchist. So when the letter comes from Pogtopia, he left behind his world, his wars, his unearthly appearance. 

And he played human. 

He got his items legitly, he played his skills off as childhood training, and he blamed his seemingly inhumane reflexes on one to many zombies. 

They all believed him. 

  
  


w̸̧̲̯̜̞̩͂̊͗͒͛͛̈́͠ę̶̻͚͇̪͔͖̏'̷͚̖̱̘̥͇͈̱̪̝͇̻̌̈́̿̎͘l̷͔̠̯̳͎̯͊l̷̢̧̯̥̣̹̥̖͍̣̟͕̠̾̊̋̿̅̇̐͂̂͝͠ͅ ̶̼͉̲̻̖̠̪̳͑̾̃̃̓̌̔͐͠͝m̷̛͔̺̤̼̜̖̟̗̩̟̪̆ͅȩ̷̛͙͇͚̪͉͍̝̣͙͖͇͎͚͈̉̓͊͛̊̈́͒͘͝͠e̴̲͈͖͚̪̓̽͊͐̈́̆t̶̖̰̰͆͑͊̍̄͘̕ ̸̥͉̞̭͇̜̙͓͇͔̮̓͑̈̕ä̷̢̰̺̫̙͓͉̦̗̱́́̎̏͘͘ͅǵ̵̢̛̠͖͍̯͔͕̭͎̠̞̹͓̞̮͌̒̄̾̌̒̈̓̕̕a̶̧̨̖̪͔̺͒̾̄̎̓̔͗̀͂̉̋̄ͅị̵̧̘͓̖̹̹͖̼̰͙̺͙͓̊̆̍̚ñ̵͍͎͚̘͉͍̜̉͌͐̋

  
  
  


L’Manburg was simply a battlefield and that was where the Blood God thrived. Oh, to see his eyes turn a red that can only be the color of blood, to see his famous pig mask that people wonder if it is actually real, to see his sword cut through others like their bodies were simply air and to see the god in action. He laughed as blood splattered the world. 

But like all things, it must come to an end.

Schlatt was killed. His blood splattered the caravan.

The others surrendered. Blood dripped off their swords.

They gathered by the podium. They were all bleeding.

But still, the voices in the god’s head demanded blood, demanded war, demanded  _ death _ .

Wilbur Soot slipped away. The voices noticed. 

And the Blood God can’t help but  _ smile _ . 

  
  
  


â̸̪̤͈̩̯͖͍̭̭͉̲͕̣͍̒͆̎̿͐͜͝ň̵̮̈̋͂͗̾̓͝d̸͔̝̯̹̘̱̘͍̙̗̤̂̌́̏̕ͅ ̴̡̺̣̠̫̥̊͗̔̈̓͗́̅̽̕̚ͅẅ̸̨̟͔̟͍̜͎͕͔̬́̑̈̄͛̚ȩ̶̛̻̩̗͕̥̗͓͔̫͖͂́̐̅̽̔́͂͂̓͠'̴̡̢̢̛̫͓̣̼̱̝̩̮̈́̉̐̆̾͊̋̇͌̕̚͝l̶̛̛̯̦̫̰̝̦͔͓̞͍̠͇͐͋̋̾͆̄̑̕͘͝͝l̶̛͔̪̓̎͌̾̂̓̉̆͒͜ ̴̣͓̳̃͛̑̒̓͛̑͜n̶̢̳̪͌͑̕͝e̵̢̢͙͚̣̻̦͕͎͎̰̼̤͖̬̎̌̽͂͌̔̈́́̾͠v̸͓̦̞̠͓͊͐̂͒͐͆̔̋̃̔̓̈́̄̕͜ͅȩ̸̛͉̠͕̥͆̇̐͂̋r̶̹̜̠̭̈́̈́͘ ̷̻̝̞̗̪͙̍̅̔͋̓̑͋̿̏́b̶̛̝̺͎͓̄̂̒͘e̶̢̝͓͇̱̞͚̠͗̒̌͊̚͜͠ͅ ̷̝͙̮͍̝͙͍̝̦͑͂͌͑̏̋̍̓̕͝s̴̥̗̋͛͛̈͗̐̔̏̂́̕͝͝͝e̴̢̢̡̺̦̻̻̞̞̮͔̮̥͒͋͜͜p̴̡̛̥͕̞̬̻̫͉̘͓͗̓̏̓̐̈́̿́̀ͅạ̴̡̧̻̗̹̳͍̥̪̿̊̕r̸̡̫͖̞͍̉̒ͅͅa̶̡̨̢̭̻̫̱̝̹̟͈͂̈ț̵̭̜̜̲̼̯̪̪̬͇̈́̍̒̌̆̂̇̈́̎͊̅͘̕͠͝ͅe̵͓̭͔̔̌̒ͅd̷̢̨͔͓̮͎̮͉̠̹̦̄ͅ ̴̮̺̣͔̭̥͖̩̋̏͋̓̒̑͊̿̽̌̀͝͠ǎ̶̛̟̊͊͒̒͘ǵ̷̲͔͕͕̖̙͓͓̗̹̱̗̓̒͑̑̄̅̎̾̎̿͘͝ą̸̰̦̗͉̤̲̦͓̪̘͛͊̉͗i̷̢̳͓͉͇̦̫͕͍̥͈̬̱̣͕̾͊̽̈́͝n̶̡̜͕͍̪̫̙͈̟̻̆͛͊̓̏́͛̄̓̓̓̽̉͜

  
  
  


L’Manburg was in ruins. And the god laughed. 

The withers waited in the sky for the call of their master and no one, not even Dream, knew why they waited there behind the god, waited when all they know is chaos, destruction, and carnage. 

They were watching him. The god was waiting. 

They were all watching. The other was adamant. 

“Kill me, Phil,” Wilbur’s voice echoed in the ravine. He sounded insane, crazy, out of his mind and yet, his words were conviction. “They all want you to do it.” 

“You’re my son,” Phil tried to beg, to plead but there is no bargaining with a mad man. “I-I can’t-” 

“Kill me,” Wilbur screamed and the sword was driven straight through his chest. 

The others screamed. 

The Blood God laughed. 

  
  
  


i̷̧͇̻̜̜͕͉̙̤̝̾̿͜ ̴̨̛̘͉̟̜̲̗̟̘͈̋͋̍́͊̎̈̐̏̍̃͐͜͠p̵̧̪̈́̒̀̅͗̄̇̅͐̉͜r̶͇͙̯̫̩͖͚̩̮͎̳̳̽̆͑̒̆̂͂͝͝ͅͅo̴̡̧̦̭̺̬̳̭͈̙͖͚̥̽͜͝͝͠ͅm̶̢̧̖̟̗̳̙̖͉͐̒̈̓̈́̎̎̀̉͑͝i̷͈̼̘̮̖̯̠͎̅̀̃̎̓̾̉̈͝ͅͅs̴̝̈́̓̿̇͗͆̋e̸̢̛̥̣̱̥͍͖̹̋͊͊͌̇͌͐͑̕ͅ ̸̧͉̬̯̱̘̘̯̭͈̲́̃̈̓͂͋͋ͅͅy̵͔̼͛̈́̀͒̾̓͐̉͠ö̶̡̬̠͖͚̞́̊̈́͜͜ư̸̧̬͉̠͎͓̝̖̹̣̲̦̜̍͌̐͌͌̒̚̕̚͠,̸̰̱̻̮͍͙̙̰͓̯̲̝̃̂͜ ̴̡̧̢͕̦̱̺͇̮̬͈͉̌͐͠ͅm̵̧̘̼͍̟̭̝̩̝͕͛͌̎͆͆̉ͅy̸̨̞̯͎̹̰͆̿ͅ ̷̛̻̝̘͉͖̣̹̱̦͒̓̉̍̃̈̔̍ͅb̶̡̧̙̼̭̱̒́͋̃͒̽̓̊̿̇̕͝ͅŗ̵̠̘̲̯̩̫̖̩̊̓̂̒̇͗̓͑̄̀̂͂͜ǫ̵̯̭̮͓̮͈̩̳͇̋̽̂͛̑̐̑͜t̵̝̲̻̖̬̠͋͌̉̊̄͂̈́͘ȟ̶̡̡̯̝̟͖͋̈́͋͂̓͝ḛ̴̖̊̕r̴̖̼̣̟̄̎͝

  
  
  


Wilbur didn’t die.

The others watched in horror as he stayed standing, laughing weakly. He pulled the sword out of his own chest and dropped it to the floor, blood dripping down his chin. Phil can only watch with eyes wide, with uncertainty in his face. 

“Let them loose, Techno,” Wilbur whispered but the god hears him. The withers screamed and raged and immediately began to attack the ruins of L’Manburg. “And thank you, Phil.”

  
  
“Wil-” Phil reached out. 

“I’m afraid that’s not my name,” Wilbur smiled. 

And for a second, Phil only stared but then, there’s a scream far off. Phil opened his mouth to say something but shook his head, running away from the destroyed button room. 

The Blood God joined Wilbur. 

They took each other’s hands. 

  
  
  


w̶̨̨͍͔̜̙͓̱̺̼̣̲̳̣͑̋̅̓͠͝e̵̲͔̼̖̗̪̱͔̘͗̄͊̽̊̒̿̅̏̅͊ ̷̢͕̅̿̆͂̈͛̾͒͑̾̾͝w̷̢̛͚̭̿̈́͌̋̉͆͐͆̍̊į̴̪̭̈́̐͂̄̒̑̿͊̀̐͋̚̕l̸̡̯̝͚̜̬ͅĺ̵̡̗̗̠͇͕̼̭͖̻͕͎͔̍̾͐͑̔͘̚͝ͅ ̸̧͙͎͉̰̺͙̱̉̑̈́̑͝l̵̨̛̝̒̽͛͒̇͌̊́̈́̚͝͝͝i̵̡̧̹͖̤͙̲̜͂̎̅̃̑͒̅̊̒ͅv̸̯̦͉͔̈̓̓̅̃̈́͋̂̕ȇ̴̠̠̗̄͐͐͘ ̷̩̩̬̖̙̭̖̼̦̖̠̮͍̓̈̔̇ͅf̴̮͍̠̽ơ̴͍̣̬͙̲͈͍̐͛͒̿͂̀̕͝͠ŗ̴͍͖͉̘̥͇̐̎͌e̶̛̬̔̌̅̓̈́̓͘͝v̶͎̦̖̬̯̝̥̉ͅͅe̴̫̼̹̲̫̳͚̎̃̆̀͌̈́ř̵̞̤ ̶̧̭̟̺̻͇̺̠̺̙̺̯͆̔̅̅̓ṱ̶̛̈́͛͋̌̓̕͠ȍ̴̗̰̽̈́́̕̕g̷̘̅̓̽̽̄̊̿͛͜͝e̶̗͂̈́̋͛͗̈́͛͆͊̍̄̌̚̚t̷̜̳̮̙̿̌̌̇̓͆̚h̷̻̪̻̽̀̿͌́̋̋̈́́̒͝͠͠͝e̴̟̞̯̮̟̲̪̲̩͕͋͛̐̌͘r̵̨̝̱̪̩̺̞̮̱̦̲͚̒͑̋̑̕͜

  
  
  


“Wilbur, Techno,” Tommy screamed but before he could even reach the two, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Dream.

“That’s not them, Tommy,” Dream’s grip is harsh, almost painful.

“Shut up, bitch!”

  
  
“Tommy, you have to understand. They’re not h̴̨̘̟̭͌̌̋̒̈̊ͅͅü̵̥̘͕̮̬̍͜ṁ̷̯̥͙̽̈́̏̿͝͠ã̸̧̯̙̤̣͕͇̅͂̈͜n̶̺̘̈́̕.”

Everyone heard that. The withers paused in their rampage, all looking towards Techno with expectation in their eyes. He held a closed fist up and his other hand held Wilbur’s, who’s supposed to be dead.

“What does that mean?” Tommy’s voice was weak. 

The Blood God smiled. 

“It means, Theseus, that we have only been playing human.”

  
  
“Where there is war….” Dream read off the famous line. 

Wilbur finished it. “...death is soon to follow.”

  
  
  


a̴̡̠̞̝͈͖͇̅̅̀̑͂̍̕n̴͎̗̺̪͕̖̦̳̗̯̜̎d̷̹̫̮̱̻̤̥̃̚͜ ̸̥́̇̏w̷̛̼͉̝͙̪̥̰͖̠̼̆̄͊̐͒͘̚͝ͅã̴̛̛͍̖̖̠̈́̓̿̆̀̔̿̀̃͜t̸̞̱̹̠̼͙̗̄̔̄̂̉̓͝ͅç̸̨̤̠͇͚̓̾͂̈́̾̈́͗͋̕h̶̼̲̭̮̻̖͓͌ ̸̨̱͇͚͕̖͎̦̝̰̜̦̒̓͂̍̈́̚t̴͙̏̃̓͛h̶̡̞͔̉̄̇̏̉̏̈́͂͝ȩ̴̦̺̙͉͍̂͝ ̵̙̓͌w̵̤̙͈̣͖̯͔̗̜̺͚̳̐͑ŏ̶͇̱̥̙̪̠͍͙̍r̴̢͉̼͝ľ̷͔̣̘͊͌͐̉̍̋̕d̶̹̣̯͔̮͇̊̓ ̶̙͔̼͎̼̥̭̣̦̆͗̇̊͑͘͜͝͝ͅḇ̸̢̦̲͙͎̲͔̘̃̉̔͂̑̈͊̓̊̚ͅu̷̧̳̬͇͊͛͐̓̑͘̕̕͠ŗ̸̛̩̥͖̤̠̩͎̜͆̏̃́́͑̂̅̊̋n̶͎̬̣̹͉̳̤͍͉͈̞̓͆̏̿͗̍̊̑͛ͅ.̶̧͖̏͛̿͆̒̕̚͜

  
  
  


They say that war is never alone. 

They say that war will always be followed by another. 

For when blood splatters the world and when war claims the minds of humans, death is there to take the souls that are simply too far gone. 


End file.
